


I'm Gonna Stand By You

by bandito06



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anger, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Protective Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25388248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandito06/pseuds/bandito06
Summary: When someone insults Aziraphale, Crowley takes it upon himself to protect his angel. He makes sure the angel and the person insulting him both understand just how much his angel means to him.And there's a duck!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	I'm Gonna Stand By You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for clicking on this story! I hope you enjoy it! It might be a little cringy but I had fun writing it and that's all that matters!

“Angel!” Crowley calls, walking into the cluttered bookshop. With no response, he wonders if Aziraphale is lost in another book or in the back. He weaves his way through the shop with more books than actual shop. He pities the shelves that have to hold the many books.

“Angel?” Crowley calls again, still receiving no response. Panic flashes through him. Normally the blond would have realized that Crowley was in his shop by now. If any of those bastards up in Heaven dared touch his angel…

“Crowley!” a soft voice calls out. The demon’s knees weaken in relief as he sees Aziraphale coming down the stairs that lead up to his flat. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting, dear boy.” Crowley frowns at his angel. Something is off about him but he can’t quite figure it out. He fears mentioning it would set Aziraphale on guard or something. 

“Nah, just worried that the bastards from Heaven had gotten you. Glad to see you are completely unharmed,” Crowley says with a smirk, trying to rid his voice of the worry. Aziraphale smiles back, touching Crowley’s arm lightly.

“Do not worry for me, I shall be perfectly fine if some unwanted intruder comes knocking.” Crowley did not doubt that. He had startled the angel on more than one occasion, all of which ended with him on the floor and the blond on top(not that he really minded). “Plus, I have managed to keep customers out, for the most part.” A wry smile slides into place on the angel’s beautiful face.

“That’s true.” Crowley looks away, not sure that he would be able to stop himself from pulling the angel in for a kiss if he stares any longer. That’s how it seems to be, these days. Aziraphale being his normal unfairly gorgeous self and Crowley pretending that he doesn’t want to kiss the angel for as long as he could. He knows he couldn’t, of course. Not with Aziraphale not being interested in him that way.

“Something wrong, dear boy?” Aziraphale asks, pressing a hand gently to Crowley’s cheek before pulling away.

“ ’S-ah nothing. It’s nothing.” Crowley’s reply is too quick for either of them to believe it but neither of them speaks further until the ginger awkwardly suggests lunch. The angel turns an interesting color and, much to Crowley’s surprise and concern, declines the offer. That in itself was odd. The blond was always up to visiting restaurants with Crowley(something the demon hoped was just as much related to him as the prospect of food). The demon opens his mouth to ask if something is wrong when Aziraphale interrupts with something about taking a walk in St. James Park.

The two end up taking that walk through the park, as Aziraphale had suggested. It was a nice enough day that Crowley has no complaints(especially when he caused some mischief, although he suspects Aziraphale has fixed some of the damage). The two chatter away, Aziraphale about books and Crowley about anything but books.

“Has there been any word from Heaven?” Crowley asks as casually as he could. Maybe that’s what was bothering the angel earlier. It hadn’t been that long ago that they stopped the Armagdon’t and both sides were still likely to want to come after the two. They were ‘the ones that got away’ as the humans would put it.

“None, luckily. Any from Hell?” Crowley shakes his head. The two fall silent until Aziraphale lets out a gasp and hurries towards a small shape in the grass. The ginger walks after him, wondering what could have grabbed his angel’s attention like that. As he walks near he sees a baby duck lying on the ground with what appears to be a broken wing.  
“Oh, Crowley, I have to help this poor dear,” Aziraphale murmurs, carefully scooping up the duck. He cradles it close to his chest, cooing soft words of comfort. Crowley feels a slight twinge of jealousy before realizing how silly it was to feel jealous over an animal.

“Here you go, being all angelic again,” the ginger replies with a smirk. Aziraphale turns towards him and Crowley has to school his features as the sunlight hits the blond, making him look so much like the angel he is. It’s really unfair how the angel can make his heart pound as fast as it can by just looking at Crowley.

“Crowley, I’m not trying to be angelic, I just wish to help this poor dear. Do you think if I miracle his wing back to normal, would it hurt him?” The blond looks to Crowley with worry and sadness filling his beautiful face.

“You might be best to heal his wing naturally,” Crowley replies slowly, wondering if the sadness is only from the baby duck or from something more. He is about to ask when a tough-looking man makes his way towards Aziraphale, a stupid smirk on his face. Crowley instantly dislikes the man.

“Oh look, it’s you again!” he shouts with a grin. The words are casual, almost friendly, but the way Aziraphale turns pale and pulls away from Crowley makes the demon clench his fists in anger. The angel pulls the duckling as close to his chest as he could without hurting the poor animal, almost as if the animal is his support, his anchor. Crowley moves in front of Aziraphale, trying to protect him from the asshole's angry gaze.

The man catches the movement and looks the ginger up and down slowly. “And who’s this? Please don’t tell me this is your boyfriend or something. He’s way too hot to be with the likes of you. Unless he is just taking pity on you then he’s being real nice.” Rage fills Crowley as the man’s words sink in.

“He-he isn’t-” Aziraphale tries to say before Crowley cuts in, not liking the way his angel seems to shrink in on himself. He brushes his hand against Aziraphale’s shoulder, fury surging through him as the blond flinches.

“Yeah, I am his boyfriend,” he says smoothly, turning to the bastard that dares hurt his angel. He wonders how many punches he could get in before Aziraphale would stop him. “Now you better piss off before I get angry and decide to fix that ugly face of yours.” Shock flits across the man’s face before he starts grinning.

“I get your boyfriend’s right there and you have to act as if you care but if you want, I can make you feel so much better than he can,” the man responds, his voice low and seductive in a gross way. Crowley forces his hands to smooth out from the fists they had formed before he punches this idiot. “I can make you feel good. So much better than softy over here.” Maybe punching him wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“I think I’m good, thanks,” the demon snarls. “I’d much prefer someone who understands that other people should be treated with respect than someone who treats others like shit on the bottom of their shoes. If anyone is shit, it’s you.” Crowley gives the man a once over before smirking. “Plus, being a dick doesn’t make yours any bigger.” Shock and fury fills the man’s face as his mouth falls open.

“You-you-you!” he splutters.

“I what?” Crowley asks, raising one eyebrow. “I’m an asshole? I know. It’s my best personality trait.” He flashes the man a grin that borders on crazy, showing his pointy teeth. The man doesn’t say anything more. Crowley steps closer and lowers his voice. “If I hear that you talk to him or even so much as look at him I will find you and I will make you regret ever messing with him.”

“You-you can’t!” the man hisses. Crowley slightly admires this man’s bravery, but not enough to not want to punch him.

“Oh, really?” the demon responds. He lowers his sunglasses enough to show the man his snake eyes. “I have connections and I know people who get into some dirty shit. Now run along back to whatever pity me group you came from.” The man backs away from Crowley, a look of horror on his face that fills the ginger with satisfaction. His eyes have that effect on most humans.

“Was that really necessary?” Aziraphale asks softly. “I could have dealt with him. There was no need to make him fear you.” Crowley pushes his sunglasses back up his nose and frowns.

“I think there was a need for the way that arsehole was talking to you,” Crowley responds. “I wish I could have gotten a good punch in, though.”

“Still, I could have dealt with him. I’ve dealt with him before, dear,” Aziraphale says, focussing his gaze on the baby duck, who appears to be sleeping in the angel’s hands.  
“You shouldn’t have to deal with him.” Aziraphale shrugs before turning away. He grabs the angel’s elbow. “What kind of things does that bastard say to you?”

“Just that I should lose weight and…” He trails off.

“And?” Crowley prompts, tightening his grip on the blond’s elbow slightly. He relaxes his grip as Aziraphale flinches.

“It’s nothing dear,” Aziraphale whispers. “Besides, we should get this dear back to the bookshop.” Crowley aches to reach out and touch him, to hug him and kiss him and whisper to him that everything was going to be all right, that the bloody bastard’s words were nothing but lies told out of spite and jealousy to tear the perfect angel down, but he fears his words will be unwelcome so he follows slowly behind the blond.

They reach the bookshop and Crowley holds the door open for Aziraphale to walk through. The blond murmurs a thank you.

“You don’t have to stay, dear,” Aziraphale mumbles, setting the duckling on a towel. He miracles the stuff he needs to fix the wing. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley says gently. “I’m going to stay.” As long as you want me too. Aziraphale’s face breaks out in a beam that would kill Crowley from its radiance if that was possible. The two fall silent while Aziraphale gently helps the duckling’s wing.

“So, boyfriend, huh?” Aziraphale asks quietly with a smirk on his face. There’s a hint of hesitance in his face as well.

“Well, I-uh had to shut him up somehow,” Crowley responds, not looking at the angel. “It seemed to be the easiest way.”

“But surely there must have been other ways, right?” Crowley would bet a lot of money that the bastard was enjoying this. Two could play this game.

“Oh sure, like I could break every bone in his body slowly until he was in agony, oh that would be a great deal of fun. Or I could have kissed him right there, he might have enjoyed that, though. Or I could have kissed you.” Which I would enjoy the most. Crowley worries he went too far when the blond doesn’t respond.

“I like the kissing option,” he says finally. Crowley’s heart skips a beat and his mouth goes dry as he processes the angel’s words. The angel doesn’t look at him after dropping his word bombs. “All done.” The duck looks at him and then at his wing before letting out a small quack.

“Which option?” Crowley asks, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He’s sure that anyone within a three-mile radius can hear his heart. Maybe farther. Maybe Heaven and Hell can hear his heart racing and aching for the beautiful creature in front of him.

“This one.” Aziraphale pulls Crowley’s head down to meet his. Their lips meet in a soft and sweet yet hungry kiss. Crowley forces himself to take it slow, worried that one sudden movement would make Aziraphale move away. He has wanted this for so long yet the ginger can’t help but worry this is some prank or that the angel will realize that he could do so much better than Crowley.

With that thought in mind, Crowley pulls back. He wants to lean forward and capture his angel’s lips again as Aziraphale makes a noise of protest.

“Crowley!”

“Hold on, angel. I just need to make sure this is what you want. If it’s not then that’s fine. I understand.” Aziraphale looks at Crowley like he’s grown a second head, which is entirely likely since this all must be a dream his brain has conjured up to tease him.

“Of course I want this. I’ve wanted this for a while now, dear.” The blond narrows his eyes. “Do you want this?” Shock crosses Crowley’s face.

“Of course I want this, angel! I’ve wanted it for… a while as well. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Aziraphale smiles softly and cups Crowley’s cheek. Crowley leans into the touch like a cat. His eyes flutter shut as his angel lightly moves his thumb across the demon's cheekbone. Crowley opens his eyes again to stare into the beautiful blue eyes staring back at him. The angel would be the death of him, he was sure of it. Fuck Hell, this beautiful, precious being in front of him was going to kill him and he would let him.  
Aziraphale leans forward again. Crowley is hoping for another kiss. As the space between them diminishes, Crowley feels his knees weakening and his heart pounding so fast. This would be their second kiss but it would be another kiss with his angel.

The duckling, deciding to ruin the mood, lets out a loud quack, startling the two. Crowley curses while Aziraphale lets out a slight giggle as the duckling stares at them before quacking again.

“If I turned into a snake then maybe he would shut up,” Crowley grumbles. The blond touched a hand to his shoulder lightly.

“You will do no such thing! Besides, he’s probably just hungry. What do baby ducks even eat?”

“You probably have a book on it somewhere.” Aziraphale smiles slightly before walking away towards the back of the bookshop. The duck quacks again.

“I am this close to turning into a snake and eating your smug little face off, you angel thief!” Crowley growls. “He’s mine, you foul fowl.” The ginger turns as he hears a stifled laugh and feels a hand on his back.

“Yelling at Colonial Quacker, are you?” Crowley lifts an eyebrow and Aziraphale blushes. “I couldn’t think of any other names. You name him if you think you can do better!”  
“What about ‘When Crowley got to kiss his angel’? Or ‘Crowley Jr.’?” Aziraphale laughs, making Crowley grin in delight. The angel didn’t laugh a lot so it felt like a treasure every time he made him laugh. The duck quacks again, ignoring the death glare Crowley sends its way.

“Right, food for Crowley Jr. before he makes a mess of my bookshop.” Aziraphale sets out quickly to feed the bastard animal. He cooed and stroked the animal’s feathers. Crowley was half-tempted to turn into a snake so that Aziraphale would fuss and coo over him too. He is about ready to do it when his angel takes his hand and leads him away from the duckling.

“You were snarling at the poor baby, my dear,” Aziraphale says, rubbing soothing patterns on the palm of Crowley’s hand with his thumb. “You aren’t seriously jealous of a duck, are you?”

“I mean, you seem to like it more than me,” Crowley responds dryly. Aziraphale shakes his head as he sits on the couch, releasing the ginger’s hand. Crowley stretches out as far as he can, his head resting in his angel’s lap. The blond strokes Crowley’s hair. If the ginger could purr, he’d be purring like crazy.

“I should be the one who’s jealous,” Aziraphale says softly. “What would you, my dear, want with someone like me.” Crowley makes a noise in the back of his throat that is half disbelief and half anger. “You are gorgeous in every aspect while I’m...soft and bookish. I’m not handsome in the way most people like and I can get lost in my books for a long time. I’m not good-”

“If you dare say you aren’t good enough then I will make you sit here while I tell you everything that makes you perfect starting with how kind you are and how intelligent you are and don’t get me started on how gorgeous you are. You kill me every time you smile. If somebody painted you, the title would be ‘The Perfect Angel’.” Crowley sits up and presses a deep kiss to Aziraphale’s lips. “Not to stroke my ego or anything but I chose a damn good angel to fall in love with.” He freezes, realizing what he said.

“I love you too, my dearest.” The angel and the demon kiss again, holding onto each other like there is no tomorrow, and maybe Heaven and Hell will try to end the world again and make it so there is no tomorrow, but for Aziraphale and Crowley the end of the world will be best spent loving each other. 

And the duckling, who starts quacking again.


End file.
